


Mine

by DragonoftheMidwest



Series: A Bitch in Heat [4]
Category: Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Biting, Cheating, Cunnilingus, Dom/sub, F/M, Fluff, Hair-pulling, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Scratching, Smut, Werewolf, Werewolf Sex, but not really, possesive sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-30
Updated: 2018-06-30
Packaged: 2019-05-30 21:14:50
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,301
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15105017
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DragonoftheMidwest/pseuds/DragonoftheMidwest
Summary: Vilkas catches Isolde coming home from meeting Brynjolf and loses control of his wolf while "marking his territory"





	Mine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [N3kkra](https://archiveofourown.org/users/N3kkra/gifts).



Isolde shrugged off the feeling of eyes on her as she left Honeyside in the dead of night. Vilkas was sleeping within after an exhausting day of traveling and hadn’t woken when she left the bed. She had waited months for the message from Brynjolf when it came, and almost hugged the courier when he arrived with it. She nodded at a guard as he passed her in the shadows of the Bee and Barb. She kept close to buildings, not crossing the city market, opting for stealth over speed. When she reached the Temple of Mara, she went around the building and through the cemetery to the secret entrance of the guild. Brynjolf was already waiting for her, in his Nightingale armor with his hood down and a large sack at his feet.

“Did you get it?” Isolde asked, nodding to the sack. 

Brynjolf smirked at her and bent over to grab the sack from the ground. “Of course I did, lass. I had to personally meet my contact in Bruma to get this. You want to tell me why you’re spending a thousand septims to get a single bottle of Dragonstar whiskey from the Third Era smuggled over?”

“It’s a-” Isolde hesitated, “-special occasion.” She’d spoken to Brynjolf about it before. 

He knew what she was alluding to as soon as she said it. “About damn time. I hope I’m invited to the official celebration.”

“Of course, my friend.” Isolde kissed Brynjolf on the cheek before grabbing the sack and cradling it in her arms like a babe. She made her way back to Honeyside the way she came, slipping in through the front door and setting the covered bottle on the table. She was already wearing everything she needed under her Guild Master armor, so she worked to take it off as quickly and silently as possible. 

She had only her pants and boots on when rough hands on her hips pulled her into the bedroom and her back hit Vilkas’s broad chest. He was breathing heavily, like he did when he was struggling to control his beast blood.

“Vilkas?” She asked. 

“Who was that?” He growled in her ear.

“What?” She had made sure she wasn’t followed. How had he woken and followed her so quietly? Isolde swore quietly when she saw two empty potion bottles on the bedside table. Grey for invisibility, and her tidy scrawl identified the other bottle as stealth. 

“Caught you with your lover, did I? Think I wouldn’t catch on when you always come back from ‘business’ smelling like the Ratway every time we’re in Riften?”

“Vilkas, it’s not what you think.” Isolde tried to explain, but his calloused hand clapped over her mouth. 

“You know the words?” He growled in her ear. Isolde nodded. “Then do not speak again unless I tell you to.”

Isolde whimpered against his hand as she nodded again. Vilkas had never taken charge like this with her before, and despite the circumstances that had incited this in him, she couldn’t help but grind back against him. 

“Everytime you come back smelling like that, I can’t help but wonder what the thief has that I don’t.” Vilkas turned them around and pushed her down onto the bed. She caught herself on her arms and held still while Vilkas decided what to do with her. His teeth sank into her shoulder, sharper than normal, and drew blood. He continued biting a trail down her back, marking her, but no longer drawing blood. Isolde gasped when he ripped her pants and smalls from her body. She was already wet, so his finger slid easily against her folds. 

“Already wet?”He asked as he pressed a finger into her. He crooked his finger slightly to glide against her sweet spot. He tsked at her, “Tell me why I shouldn’t just return to Whiterun after seeing you kiss him.”

“He’s a friend.” Isolde gasped as he pressed her upper body down into the mattress. “He did a favor for me.” She held back her disappointed whine when he took his finger out of her. 

Vilkas pushed into her roughly, both of them hissing at the stretch. “I don’t even want to know what kind of favors a  _ thief _ could do for the dragonborn.” 

“He-” Isolde began, but was cut off with a sharp slap across her behind. 

“No more.” Vilkas started to thrust into her, setting a rough pace that sent both pleasure and pain through her core. “ His grip on her hips was bruising, and she could feel that he was struggling to control his beast blood with the way his sharper-than-normal nails were digging into her flesh. Isolde gripped the sheets below her, searching for something to ground her as Vilkas picked up the pace and began pounding into her. She could feel her orgasm building, but was shocked out of it by Vilkas tangling his fingers in her hair by the roots and using his grip on it to pull her up so her back was to his chest. He continued pounding into her, but the hand left on her hip moved to her clit and started rubbing furiously. 

“He can’t make you come like I can.” Vilkas hissed by her ear. “He can’t make you scream. He can’t love you like I do. You’re  _ mine. _ ” The last word was choked off as Isolde’s climax hit her and she squeezed him. He didn’t meet his own end, not yet. “Tell me who you belong to.” He demanded, as he continued thrusting.

“You.” Isolde whimpered. “I belong to you Vilkas.”

“Mine.” Vilkas growled before biting down hard on her other shoulder as he climaxed, drawing it out with a couple of stuttering thrusts. 

Vilkas let go of Isolde and pulled out, allowing her to collapse face-down on the bed. “I’m going hunting.” He told her matter of factly before he left through the back door. She could hear him howling just moments later, as he finally gave into the blood. 

Isolde curled up on her side with her back to the door he had just left, the Amulet of Mara she was wearing half laying on the mattress and half laying on her breasts. She pushed down her tumultuous emotions and fell into a restless sleep. 

* * *

 

 

Vilkas prayed that the guard that patrolled near Honeyside was turned away, or on the other end of his round, or something along those lines as he awkwardly ran to the stairs with one hand covering his bits. Seeing Isolde kissing that thief the night before had sent his beast blood into a rage he couldn’t control. They had never really defined their relationship, so it wasn’t fair of him to expect her to not see others if they weren’t exclusive. He shook his head as he stepped into Honeyside, the door still unlocked from when he had left the night before. He froze in his tracks when the scent of blood hit his nose. 

He went to the bed and pulled back the covers, expecting to see that somebody had gotten into the house and hurt Isolde while he had left the door unlocked in his haste to shift. Bruised bite marks made along her back and he could see cuts on her thighs and puncture wounds from his teeth. He cursed, seeing that the puncture wounds on her shoulders were still bleeding slightly. Forgetting his nudity, he ran downstairs to where she kept the alchemy lab and pulled a couple of healing potions from the shelves. He racked his brain for memories from the night before. She hadn’t indicated that she was in pain, and hadn’t told him to stop. But if she had been afraid of him, afraid of the beast… He shook his head. She had the soul of a dragon and could shout him into nothing but a pile of ash if she wanted. 

He got back upstairs to the bedroom and saw that she was curled in on herself. Her eyebrows were furrowed and her lower lip was trembling. “ _ Grohiiki… _ ” Isolde mumbled in her sleep. 

Vilkas grimaced at the name that had been used in endearment for him. Her  _ wolf _ had done this. He pulled the waterskin from a hook on the wall and a cloth and got to work cleaning her wounds after turning her onto her stomach. Her muscles rippled under her skin. “Vilkas?” She asked groggily as she turned back over to face him. 

The waterskin fell out of his hand, sloshing water all over their laps and the blankets. He couldn’t take his eyes off of the Amulet of Mara that rested on her chest. He couldn’t find words. Was she wearing that last night? Was that meant for Brynjolf? Had she come back to tell him it was over?

Her hand covering his jerked him out of his thoughts. “Go get the sack I brought home last night.” She ordered gently. He nodded, mind slightly numb. When he returned with the sack, she had to pat the space next to her before he would sit back on the bed. “The reason I met with Brynjolf last night was because of this.” She pulled a bottle out of the sack, laying it out for him to see. The glass was clear, letting him see the deep amber of the liquid inside. “There are only a handful of bottles of this Dragonstar Whiskey left. It’s got a secret spice blend recipe that was lost during the Oblivion Crisis. I thought it would be a nice thing to ask you with. Back in Cyrodiil, you’re supposed to present a gift to somebody when you ask somebody to marry you and I know you’re always wanting to experience new things so I had Brynjolf reach out to some of his contacts to find this and smuggle it across the border. He personally went to Bruma to pick it up for me.”

Vilkas stared at her, his mouth gaping open. “You were going to ask me?” Isolde nodded and Vilkas rubbed at his face, trying to process the information she was telling him. “How long have you been working on this?” Vilkas placed the whiskey on the bedside table and pulled Isolde into his lap so he could hold her close. 

“Since you tied me up in Markarth.” Isolde blushed and Vilkas’s cock stirred at the memory. Isolde felt it and smiled at him, before leaning down and kissing him. Vilkas welcomed her lips and opened his mouth to her when he felt her tongue press between his lips. He ran his hands up her sides and around her back and stopped when she hissed. 

“I still need to patch you up after last night. I didn’t realize I was so rough. You should have said something.”

Isolde chuckled and let her magic flow through her, sending the golden light of her healing spell over both of them. “I liked it, you know I would have stopped you if I didn’t.”

“You’re right.” Vilkas kissed her tenderly. “I should still make it up to you.” He whispered as he trailed kisses up her jawline. 

“Is that so? And  how did you plan on doing that?” Isolde asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I have a few ideas.” He murmured against the skin of her throat. Gently, he lay her down on the bed and began kissing his way down her body. He paused at her breasts, taking one in his hand to tease and pinch the sensitive nipple while he took the other into his mouth to suck gently. 

Isolde moaned softly, arching into his touch. Vilkas paused in his ministrations, to a whine from Isolde, so he could kneel on the floor and pulled Isolde by her hips to the edge of the bed. He pressed a tender kiss to her nether lips before licking her open gently. He sucked on the petals of her flower and lapped up her nectar, savoring her taste. Her thighs tightened around his head and she tried to direct him by moving her hips, but he only chuckled against her. “Patience, love,” he whispered before nudging her open again and sucking on her pearl. He used his lips to hold the bundle of nerves in place while he laved it with his tongue. 

Vilkas continued on like that, sucking and licking at her. He buried his face in her, devouring her until he had to pull back for air, and even when he had to pause, he kissed the sensitive insides of her thighs while he teased her with his fingers. Her thighs began to tremble around him, and he redoubled his efforts, focusing his mouth on the top of her while he crooked two fingers inside of her to hit her sweet spot. She was calling his name, begging him for her release. He pulled back to look her in the eyes, “Come for me, Isolde.” He growled before going back to suckling her clit. Her thighs tightened in a vice grip around his head, not letting him move from where he was as she rode out her climax. She gushed all over his face, soaking his skin and stubbly beard. He guided her through her end, letting her legs fall from his shoulders as she went limp. He lay his head on the soft part of her belly, pressing loving kisses to every bit of skin he could reach. 

Isolde looked down at him with unfocused eyes. “How about we switch spots and I return the favor?” She smiled at him mischievously.

“That sounds like a good idea.” Vilkas mused, “but who said I was done with you?” He asked as he started kissing her thighs again before losing himself in devouring her for the rest of the morning. 


End file.
